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It was a cold winter night, close to Christmas. Charles had forced Erik to go out and have dinner together because of their old friendship. Even though Erik complained, he finally agreed when Charles said they would eat somewhere quiet.
They arrived at a small, simple, cozy restaurant that was almost empty. Christmas music was playing, and the air inside was warm. Charles made Erik head toward the last table to sit down, but before Erik could sit, he noticed two other people there—people he could easily guess who they were.
Peter, with his silver hair, was sitting beside David, and the moment Erik and Charles approached, Peter and Erik locked eyes.
Erik: “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Peter turned seriously toward David. “You said we were going out together.”
David: “In my defense, I did say we’d go out together—but I never said we’d spend time alone!”
Erik: “I’m leaving.”
Charles: “No, you’re not going anywhere, my friend.”
Erik: “Charles…”
Charles: “Erik, please don’t make me go into your mind and force you to sit down, because we both know I can.”
Erik shot Charles an angry look, and Charles knew that after this, Erik would no longer trust him. Erik sat down beside Peter, though he adjusted the distance so carefully it was as if they were sitting across from each other.
Charles sat down next to Erik as well, blocking his way out.
Peter: “Great. Just great.”
Peter said irritably, then leaned back against his leather chair. A waitress approached.
Waitress: “Hi, I’m Amy. What can I get you?”
David: “I’ll have a glass of water and a piece of cheesecake.”
Charles: “A latte, please.”
Erik and Peter only stared at each other with hatred. David said softly, “Peter…”
Without breaking eye contact, Peter said, “A glass of water.”
Erik: “A cup of black coffee.”
Amy smiled and walked away.
The atmosphere was heavy and silent until Amy returned and set everything down on the table.
Amy: “Would you like anything else?”
David glanced at Peter, then said, “No, thank you.”
Amy nodded and walked away.
Unlike the others, Peter downed his glass of water in one go. David offered him some cheesecake, but Peter said no.
Erik let out a brief, mocking laugh, which made everyone turn toward him.
Charles: “Erik? What’s wrong?”
Erik: “Huh? Nothing. Unless there’s something wrong with him.”
David raised an eyebrow.
Charles: “Erik!”
Erik: “What? Well, it’s strange that a guy who’s always hungry suddenly orders nothing but water. Maybe he’s trying to lose weight.”
David looked at Peter, who had turned red.
Peter: “At least I can change. How are you planning to change the mess you made in your past?”
Erik: “At least I’ve actually done something with my life. What have you done?”
Charles: “Okay, that’s enough.”
Peter: “Tell him that.”
Erik: “Can’t defend yourself, so you run to Charles?”
Charles: “Erik!”
Peter: “I’m saying this to protect you, because one of my fists is about to land in your face.”
Charles: “Peter, please—”
Erik: “I’d love to see you fail.”
Peter: “You’ll see your nose break pretty soon.”
Charles: “David!”
David: “What do you want from me?”
Erik: “You have no talent other than speed. When I catch you, you’re like a mouse.”
Peter: “Careful you don’t get killed before you catch me.”
Charles: “Calm Peter down.”
David: “Want me to go into his mind?”
Charles: “No!”
Erik: “You’re talking way bigger than your mouth can handle.”
Peter: “Being big isn’t about age—it’s about having a brain, which you don’t.”
David: “Peter, please.”
Erik: “At least I don’t have mental problems like you.”
Charles: “Erik!!”
Peter: “Who has mental problems???”
David: “Peter—”
Erik: “Obviously it needs to be repeated for you.”
Charles: “That’s enough, Erik!!!”
A heavy silence settled over the table.
Charles sighed. “You’ve become worse than enemies.”
Erik looked at Charles calmly, while Peter, still glaring at Erik with hatred, said, “I want to leave.”
David: “Peter, please.”
Peter looked at him. “Get up.”
Charles: “No one is leaving.”
Peter: “You can’t force me to stay here with him.”
Erik muttered under his breath, “Coward.”
Peter turned his head toward him. “What did you say?”
Erik gave him a contemptuous look. “You heard me.”
Peter: “You got the guts to say it again?”
Erik: “Cow…ard.”
Peter grabbed David’s cheesecake and smashed it into Erik’s face.
Charles: “Oh my God.”
David covered his mouth with his hand, trying not to laugh. Charles shot him a look. Erik slammed the plate onto the table and grabbed a napkin. His eyes fell on Peter’s grin, and that only made him angrier.
Erik: “That was your best effort?”
Peter: “That was the bare minimum.”
Erik wiped his face, though there was still a mess smeared across it. Amy came back again.
Amy: “Oh! Do you need anything?”
Charles: “Oh—no, no, it was just a small argument.”
Peter: “I need two burgers, one pepperoni pizza, a family-size soda, and a cheesecake. My appetite’s back.”
He leaned back with a smirk, looking at Erik. Amy nodded and walked away.
Charles: “Peter, that wasn’t right.”
David: “In his defense—”
Charles: “No one needs defending, David. We’re not here to argue. We’re here to make these two reconcile.”
Peter: “In your dreams.”
David: “Come on, Peter.”
Peter rolled his eyes and smiled. “Let me be comfortable.”
Charles: “Peter, you’re not a child for me to tell you that you have to apologize right now.”
Peter: “Nope.”
David: “Come on, you don’t want to treat Erik like this forever.”
Erik: “Let him be…”
Charles and David both turned toward him in surprise.
Erik: “Anyway, these are his final moments.”
Peter burst out laughing as if it were a joke, but Erik stared at him with furious eyes.
Charles: “Do I need to remind you that you’re father and son?”
Peter: “It’s just blood, Charles. It means nothing.”
Erik: “Exactly as much as you do.”
David: “I told you this wouldn’t work. I’m going to the bathroom.”
Charles: “David!!”
David stood up and headed toward the restroom. Charles sighed again.
Charles: “Until I get back, don’t kill each other.”
Erik and Peter (together): “No promises.”
Charles: “And don’t move from here either. If you so much as step away, I’ll know and I’ll stop you—no matter how fast you are.”
Charles followed David toward the restroom.
After Charles left, Amy came back with the food, set everything on the table, and walked away.
Peter eagerly started eating. He usually ate so fast that no one noticed how he finished his food, but this time he chose to eat slowly and enjoy it until David returned.
Erik shot Peter a disgusted look, then tried to look elsewhere, but even the sound of Peter eating got on his nerves.
Erik: “Oh my God, stop it.”
Peter looked up and raised an eyebrow.
Erik: “Can you eat any more disgustingly than that? Eat properly!”
Peter said with his mouth full, “If it bothers you, you can leave.”
Erik could feel bits of food splashing onto his face. “Shut up.”
Peter kept eating. Erik glanced toward the exit a few times. He wanted to stand up, but he knew Charles would stop him—and he hated having anyone in his mind.
Without offering any, Peter finished both burgers and chugged half of the soda.
Erik: “You could enter an eating contest. You’d definitely win.”
Peter slammed the soda down on the table. “What’s your problem?”
Erik just stared at him.
Peter: “I’m serious. What problem do you have with the way I eat?”
Erik: “You’re seriously asking that? Has no one in your life ever told you how horribly you eat?”
Peter leaned back, surprised and uneasy.
Erik: “And those noises. Every single sound you make.”
Peter dropped his gaze and stared at his food.
Erik: “I wish you’d stop eating altogether.”
Peter clenched his teeth, grabbed the soda again, and took another drink.
Erik sighed.
Peter finished the soda and set it on the table, but he didn’t dare touch the pizza.
Erik: “Don’t you get diabetes?”
Peter looked at Erik in disbelief. “What?”
Erik: “Or high cholesterol? Or whatever. Pizza, burgers, soda… they’re always in your hands. It’s like you live on them. I’m amazed you’re not fat.”
Peter: “You don’t need to comment on me.”
Erik: “Seems like they only affect your brain—and make it smaller.”
Peter threw the empty soda cup at Erik. It hit him, but Erik smirked. He knew he’d gotten under Peter’s skin.
Peter: “Don’t you have more important things to do? Like destroying the world?”
Erik: “I don’t destroy the world—I improve it. Though I wouldn’t expect you to know the difference.”
Peter: “I don’t think you know the difference yourself.”
Erik shot Peter a sharp look.
Peter: “You’re just a pretender. A drama queen.”
Erik: “I don’t think anyone could be more of a drama queen than you. Though there was a time you actually wanted to be a queen, wasn’t there?”
Peter: “Shut up.”
Erik: “What, you don’t want to be a girl anymore? It would suit you.”
Peter: “What about you? Don’t you want to parade your miserable life in front of everyone again? Like you’re the only one who ever suffered?”
Erik tried not to show his anger or hurt. “I’m hearing this from someone who’s never seen anything beyond his mother’s basement.”
Peter: “What?”
Erik: “You never left your nest! Maybe you were scared of getting hurt, little bird.”
Peter: “I’ve saved more people than you and been in more danger than you.”
Erik: “Really? Where—your nightmares? You’ve done nothing but wake up, eat, waste oxygen, and go back to sleep.”
Peter: “At least I don’t make people afraid.”
Erik: “I scare bad people. You go around stealing junk for fun.”
Peter: “I don’t do it on purpose!”
Erik: “Oh right—you’re a kleptomaniac or something. What a convenient excuse.”
Peter’s eyes turned red. He knew he was about to cry, but he didn’t want to. He wished he could run, but David had probably kept all the exits blocked. So he did the only thing he could.
Peter hurled the pizza at Erik—slice by slice. Erik’s patience finally snapped. He grabbed the cheesecake from the table, closed the distance between them, and seized Peter, smashing the cheesecake into his face.
Peter grabbed Erik’s hair and pulled. Erik dropped the cheesecake dish and grabbed Peter’s hair in return. Both of them cried out in pain. The ground trembled under Erik’s power. Peter let go of Erik’s hair and started pounding hard fists into Erik’s chest.
Erik squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, focused on his power, and snapped metal around Peter’s moving arms, holding him tightly. Peter stopped moving—he couldn’t.
Erik lifted the table and threw it aside. There was plenty of space now. He let go of Peter’s hair.
Erik: “Now you really look like a mouse.”
Peter was red with pain, shame, and rage—and thankfully, the redness in his eyes now had a reason other than sadness.
At that moment, David and Charles returned.
Charles: “That’s enough, Erik! Let him go! His hands are turning red, Erik!!”
Erik snapped back to himself at Charles’s voice and looked at Peter. He released the metal, and Peter’s hands fell free. They were purple, as if they’d been close to tearing apart.
David said softly, full of sorrow, “Peter—”
But before he could finish, Peter ran. With the place nearly wrecked by Erik—windows shattered—Peter was able to escape easily.
Charles ran a hand over his face.
David: “I told you.”
David hurried out after Peter.
A few minutes of silence followed.
Erik: “Alright, now we can go—”
Charles: “Why, Erik?”
Erik: “What?”
Charles rubbed his eyes. “You were seriously beating him!”
Erik took a deep breath. “Sometimes parents have to use old-fashioned methods.”
Charles stared at Erik in shock, as if he didn’t recognize him. Had this man treated Nina the same way?
Charles: “Did you treat Nina like this too?”
Erik looked into Charles’s eyes for a moment. Then he snapped, standing up—faster than he ever had before.
Erik: “Nina didn’t act like a little shit!”
Charles wanted to say more, but Erik was already done. He turned and left.
That night, all four of them were alone.
Charles returned to his school.
Erik went back to his land.
David went after Peter.
And Peter was crying.